


Corsaire

by icinks



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Hallucinations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icinks/pseuds/icinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It felt like he had been dreaming for a very long time, though he could not remember what it was he had dreamt.  He did remember that he had died.  Slaine Troyard had killed him.  Or at least that was what was supposed to have happened.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>{STORY 1: complete}</p><p>{STORY 2: in progress}</p><p>Pirates AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Story 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I’d try my hand at a different dynamic with these two - not really sure how it turned out, but I hope I’ve done them justice...

_“Nao, be careful.  If you lose… I can’t help you.”_

 

 

The world spinning.  Searing pain.  The hard earth connecting with his back.  Blood coloring his vision red.

Yet as the cold steel of a blade pierced his shoulder, pinning him to the ground in an agonizing flash, all he could think about was his sister urging him to reconsider his decision.  It was a personal request more than anything, and he could still hear the tremulous undertone that accompanied the strong, commanding voice of his captain.  This was no ordinary enemy.  Even if it were, the results of a duel did not always reflect the true talent of the participants - there was a good bit of luck involved, as well.  He knew this, and yet he had agreed to it.  And now, as if by way of punishment for his foolishness, his last sight in this world would be the victorious grin of Captain Slaine Troyard, looming above him with one hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword.

Holding onto his consciousness through sheer force of will, he reached his good arm to the blade in attempt to remove it with his bare hand.  But with Troyard still bearing down on it, it was a futile effort.  At this little display of remaining fight, Troyard twisted the sword sharply, effectively drawing a surprised whimper from him.  Inaho released his grip, fingers lacerated and bleeding, and with one last fond look at the blue sky above, where seagulls circled in the sun far above the spray of the sea, he let himself slip into oblivion.

  


The sound of a key turning in a lock, and iron hinges creaking as a door was swung open.  It felt like he had been dreaming for a very long time, though he could not remember what it was he had dreamt.  He did remember that he had died.  Slaine Troyard had killed him.  Or at least that was what was supposed to have happened.

Instead, he was lying flat on his back in the dark, and someone was approaching with a lantern.  As he turned to look, there was a sudden stab of pain in his left eye, and he noticed for the first time that half of his world was completely black.  When he reached up a hand to touch it, just to determine the extent of the damage, part of him did not want to know.

“Oh!” a young, high voice exclaimed the moment he moved, and then without any explanation disappeared with hurried footsteps.

He noted that they had left the door open, and grasping in his disoriented state that wherever he was, it was behind bars, his first thought was to somehow make it out of this cage before that person returned, and they locked him in again.  Wandering in and out of sleep, precious time slipping away from him despite his efforts to stay awake and focused, he tried to calculate his chances, and the consequences should he fail.  It was all too fuzzy, everything was distant, and moving seemed impossible.  In the end, it didn’t matter.  Even when he felt his head finally begin to clear, the sleepiness drifting away and his body far less leaden, it all came to an abrupt stop when he remembered his other, more serious injury.

“You won’t be able to use that arm for a while,” someone said as he tried to sit up, and could not.

Troyard.

He heard the voice several seconds before the footsteps that were now nearly to him, swift and solid, yet light enough to hardly make a sound above the creaking of the ship, until they ended at his side.  Luminous eyes looked down at him, and there was no discernable emotion in them.  He closed his own, and shifted a bit to ease his aching, restless body to a more comfortable position on the hard wooden floor.

“Finally awake, I see,” continued Troyard, not bothering to crouch down to his level, but simply standing over him.

“I’m sure you did not come all the way to the brig to state the obvious,” retorted Inaho, glad that, despite the dryness in his mouth, at least he was able to speak, and that they had not gagged him.  Yet.

Troyard sighed a bit, and leaned back against the bars of the cell.  “Your tongue is as sharp as ever, Kaizuka,” he remarked, crossing his arms, “Good.  I thought perhaps I’d gone a little too far, and may have mangled you irreparably.”

There was no evidence that he had not - Inaho had a very bad feeling about his eye - but the main concern was that he was not dead.  “I’m more resilient than I look,” he stated coolly, though in all honesty he had been sure he was a goner.  “But why did you…”

“Why did I spare you?” Troyard gave a single, cynical laugh. “You’re too precious a commodity to throw away that easily.  Killing you was never my intent, though it would make my life easier if you were less important, and I could end you like I would anyone else.”

This information was like a treacherous slap to the face, though he couldn’t really be betrayed by someone he had never actually trusted.  “The duel was to the death.  You were supposed to kill me.  This is a breach of-”

“If I was interested in following other people’s rules, I wouldn’t be a pirate.”

That was true enough.  No less from the cunning captain of the dreaded pirate vessel, Tharsis.  But if they were both alive, they had unfinished business.  “Then I will take that to mean that our duel is not over.”

Troyard inclined his head, a hint of a smile tracing over his lips.  “I look forward to fighting you again someday, but I assure you it will only end the same way.  You’d best give it up and accept that you’re mine now.”

“Yours?  What use could you possibly have for me.”  He had thought it over again and again, but it didn’t make sense.  He was the single greatest hindrance to Slaine Troyard’s activities both at sea and along the coasts.  The most reasonable course of action would have been to kill him.

“I can think of a lot,” replied Troyard, “but the foremost is leverage. Understand that I’ve heard just as much about you as you’ve heard about me.  You’re quite the pride of Terra, aren’t you?  Though they use you so shamelessly for their own gain... I don’t know how you can put up with it.”

“They won’t send anyone for me.  I’m a quartermaster on a privateer vessel, not the admiral of a national fleet.”

“Well, they may not, but they hardly concern me.  Frankly, the fleets of Terra are an insult to the beauty of naval warfare.”

In a way, he was right.  Terra’s military in general was nothing to write home about, and the only reason it had lasted this long was because of his own strategic guidance, and the miraculous peace declared by Vers a little over two years ago.  During the war, Troyard had been at the forefront of royal military leadership on the side of Vers.  The two of them had battled one another quite often, though they had never once met face to face back then.  Now Troyard was a lowly pirate, still hell-bent on killing Terrans, and the occasional Versian to boot.  Still, none of this was relevant.  Troyard was taking his time explaining himself.

“Get to the point.  How am I your leverage?”

“So impatient…” Troyard looked a little annoyed, but continued, “Your sister is a skilled captain, but we’ll see how well she fares without you, and whether she can try to take this vessel down with the knowledge that her dear brother is aboard.”

So that was it.  He gritted his teeth.  “She won’t be so easily deterred.”  And he hoped that it was true.

Troyard laughed again. “You overestimate her cruelty.  I’ve seen the way she operates.  She’ll stay away from this vessel until she has a plan, which will take longer without you, and by then I’ll have accomplished what I need.  Well, then,” he straightened, and headed for the cell door, “when you’ve healed a bit, we’ll talk at more length.  For now… enjoy your rest.”

  
Inaho closed his eyes and exhaled.  Of all the mistakes he had made in his life, this was by far the worst.  He had known that capture was a possibility, but given Troyard’s no-survivors track record, and the prior agreement that the duel was to the death, he had felt certain that loss would mean the end.  Obviously there had been a very important factor that he had missed: his relationship to Yuki, captain of the Deucalion.  This case was different because he was different.  Ironically, it was Yuki herself who was always telling him not to disregard the personal, emotional side of battle.  Every sailor was human first and foremost, after all.  He reached up his right hand, which was wrapped tightly across the palm and fingers, and touched the bandage over his eye.  Any more carelessness would cost him far more.  He was now completely at the mercy of the most notorious pirate of their time.


	2. Story 1

"Captain Troyard wishes you to dine with him."

Usually it was a girl that came, dressing his wounds and bringing him food and drink. Occasionally it was a man, perhaps in his early twenties, with dark hair and sharp eyes, who always seemed to regard him with distaste and intense suspicion. Today it was the man, and Inaho did not even need to look at his face to read the reluctance in it.

"I will not," he replied. This was the fourth night in a row that he had been summoned, and had flatly declined. There was no reason to dine with someone whose conversation would only consist of taunts, mingled with persuasions to join his crew. Yes, Troyard had expressed interest in having him as a subordinate. Inaho's mind was the true force behind the Deucalion, the foundation of their soaring success. Of course Troyard would want it. Together, they could be unstoppable.

The man seemed even less pleased than usual, and instead of leaving as he had the previous times, he crouched down to unlock the shackles at Inaho's feet. "It was not a request," he stated tersely. "Tonight I am to bring you regardless."

There was a brief pause, during which both seemed to be measuring up the other and determining whether a physical fight would be in their favor. Perhaps if he had been in better health he might have won against this person, who was at least two hands taller and broader than him, but he had not yet adapted to his new limitations. He let out a short breath and nodded acceptance.

 

 

"It's not very polite to force your guests to dine with you," he said as he entered the cabin and saw Troyard sitting at the head of a long table. He noted that it was not loaded with opulent food, as he had anticipated, but rather only three small dishes with relatively simple fare.

"Guest? Is that what you fancy yourself?" said Troyard. He rose from his chair and approached. "Thank you, Harklight. That will be all."

The man dipped his head respectfully and departed, closing the door behind him. Troyard proceeded to lock it, and then stowed the key somewhere on his person. "Have a seat," he gestured to the chair adjacent to his own, and Inaho took it. Before following suit, Troyard sat on the edge of the table beside Inaho's plate and drew a different key out of his coat pocket. "Give me your hands." Inaho complied, and in a few swift movements the cuffs on his wrists were removed. Troyard tossed them in a drawer and then returned to his place at the table. "Is that better?" he asked, before reaching for the wine, and pouring them each a glass.

Inaho rubbed his wrists. A week of rough iron against bare skin was not particularly pleasant, and there were a few places that had begun to bleed just a little. Seeing as Troyard was the one who had put them on him in the first place, as soon as he had shown signs of being able to move about again, this sudden concern for his comfort was laughable. "You trust me?" he asked instead, though it was more of an offhanded comment. If it wasn't trust, it was confidence.

"Not in the slightest," replied Troyard. He delicately picked up a silver knife and leaned forward to carve the meat, the ruffled sleeve of his white shirt brushing the tablecloth.

So it was confidence, after all. As Troyard served the food, Inaho took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. The room was relatively dark, save for the candles burning on the table and hanging in two lanterns from the wooden beams of the ceiling. Overall, it was sparsely decorated. Hardly the luxury he would expect of someone who looted for a living. There was only a silver mirror above a small side table, which bore a box of spirits and a miniature model of a ship, and a few dark blue curtains at the far wall, perhaps obscuring the door to the captain's quarters.

"All the doors are locked," said Troyard, noting his searching eye. "Not that you'd be foolish enough to make a run for it now, when we're so far out at sea."

"Then why lock the doors…" he muttered.

"For the safety of my crew. If I allowed you to roam about, there's no telling what you'd do."

"Nothing you wouldn't, I'd wager," he returned. He had heard a great deal about Troyard's ruthless treatment of his own crew.

Troyard looked at him for a long minute, and then shook his head lightly. "Honestly, what exactly do you people think I am?"

"The list is quite long." Nearly every port in Terra had something to say about the pirate Slaine Troyard, though in truth much of it seemed rather far-fetched.

"Hmm?" Troyard hummed with new interest.

Seeing that he was meant to elaborate, Inaho continued. "Most commonly believed is that you leave no survivors. Which, obviously, is false."

"Though not  _too_  far from the mark," Troyard admitted with a smile.

"Some say that in a fight, you have a tendency to strike for the eyes. That, apparently, is true."

Troyard raised an eyebrow. "You knew, and yet you still failed to prevent it? Somehow I feel a little disappointed now, Kaizuka."

Ignoring the comment, Inaho continued, "You string up, or throw overboard, or otherwise kill one from your own crew once a month, just to remind the others to fear you."

"How barbaric. I would never," he swore with genuine disgust, "But these don't sound all that impressive. You could be describing any number of Versian captains."

"If you prefer the more wild delusions, some say you were raised by demons."

Troyard coughed, choking a little on his drink. "Ha ha! More or less correct."

"Others believe you can see the future."

"If that were true, the world would be much different, I assure you."

"And, of course, the popular belief that you eat the people you kill."

"Hoooh? Really? How exciting," Troyard leaned to one side, his elbow propped on the chair and his cheek resting against his fingers, "And what do you believe?"

Without looking up, Inaho skewered a potato with his fork. "I have yet to reach a conclusion."

"Then I'm surprised you don't suspect me of poisoning you," Troyard declared as Inaho freely ate what he had been served.

Inaho glanced up at him. "You have made it abundantly clear that you have no intention of killing me at the moment. And you've already been drugging me, so there's nothing out of the ordinary about this food, except perhaps that it is slightly more palatable than what I've been given here thus far."

Paying no heed the blatant insult to the quality of his ship's dining, Troyard looked at him with eyebrows raised. "You don't like the sensation? I've never in my life heard someone complain about the effects of laudanum, but if you would prefer to be in agony, I can withhold it. It's a surprisingly difficult tincture for me to procure, and I would prefer to conserve my supplies."

It all sounded reasonable, but he was familiar enough with the substance from treatment of past injuries to know that his current dosage was far too high, or that the preparation was somehow altered with additional ingredients. Clearly they were using it as a sedative, probably to keep him docile as long as possible, but they would make an addict of him if they didn't go easy on it soon. As if they cared if he was in pain.

"I would prefer that," he answered slowly, weighing the possible ulterior motives but coming up with none. Ideally, he would get just enough to take the edge off, but he would rather die than ask this person for such a favor. He would not play Troyard's games.

"Then you'd better hope you've healed as much as you seem to think," said Troyard.

For the remainder of the meal, neither spoke a word. And then, folding his napkin and placing it beside his plate, Troyard set his elbows on the table, his chin resting in his palms, and viewed him with a sort of intrigue. Inaho fixed his attention on his plate. He was oddly uncomfortable with those eyes watching him, especially since he was struggling to eat with one hand.

"I have asked you before," began Troyard the moment Inaho finished his meal, "and I am sure you have not changed your mind, but I will ask it again. Will you join my crew?"

"And why would I do that, exactly…"

Troyard did not answer immediately. He eased back in his chair, his arms sprawling out at will on the wooden armrests. After looking at Inaho for a moment, he let his head fall forward with a weary sigh.

"I believe you'll understand that easily enough after you've spent more time here and seen what it is that we do. As much as I'd love to slit your throat for everything you've done to thwart and destroy and take from me," his tone was quiet and even, "I can't deny that you have a skill set beyond anything I've ever seen, and that it would be to my benefit to make use of it."

"And if I refuse?"

Troyard frowned, his eyes narrowing a fraction. "Then you're useless cargo. I cannot allow you to get in my way again, so you can rot in that cell until I have no further need of you, and then I'll kill you and feed your corpse to the fish."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very unused to writing this version of Slaine ;~;


	3. Story 1

They were near land again. Inaho could tell by the rock of the ship and the very distant sound of gulls screeching overhead, along with the change in the routine of footsteps pounding just above him. Another week had passed, by his reckoning, and nearly every evening he had dined with Troyard, who after the first night had not once brought up the subject of Inaho joining his crew. Instead, he had chattered on about the latest developments in medicine, or a new species of flightless bird discovered on some island, or the astonishingly high price of chickens in Versian ports. It was all irrelevant, and yet Inaho found himself engaging in these bizarre conversations on occasion in spite of himself. Whenever he spoke, inevitably Troyard would listen with rapt interest, and Inaho could not fathom what on earth he could want with such trifling information. When Troyard was not talking or eating, which was perhaps the majority of the time, for he ate very little and seemed quiet by nature, he simply leaned on the table, wine dangling languidly at his fingertips, and watched Inaho as though trying to see right into his mind. Inaho was grateful that at least this much privacy would always be afforded him, and that Troyard could not, through any amount of staring, ascertain the plan he was constructing to escape. He was confident that his own expressions did not, and would never, betray what lay beneath.

At last, it was time to act. It didn't matter what kind of land it was - even if it was a deserted island, it would be better than staying where he was, locked in a cage and made to go along with Troyard's whims, only to be used against his own sister and then killed in the end. He had waited patiently until the right moment to free himself. As expected, the usual girl appeared to escort him to dinner, keys jangling from a large iron hoop threaded over her arm. His plan was to make his move on the way back from dinner, before she could lock him up again. There was less activity above at that time, and he would be free from his cell without Troyard awaiting his arrival.

But he knew that Troyard was not an idiot. He would have calculated for all of this. The only reason this plan might succeed was  _because_  Troyard had also thought of it, and would likely have believed it too overt and rudimentary a strategy for someone like Inaho Kaizuka to attempt. From what he had gleaned thus far from Troyard, it seemed that he always thought ahead, carefully considering each possible outcome and acting to prevent the most likely to occur. Perhaps this was where the rumor of his ability to see the future had originated, though it was nothing supernatural, it was simply an uncanny foresight and solid instincts. The only way anything might work, would be if Inaho tried something so obvious that Troyard had likely given it little attention, and would be ill prepared to properly respond. In the end, there was a low chance of success, but he had already accepted the consequences of failure.

That had been his plan when he entered the dining cabin and took his usual seat. But as the meal progressed, a new opportunity presented itself, and he was very quickly deciding to act on it. Something was different with Troyard tonight. He seemed in low spirits, and had finished off several glasses of wine when suddenly he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, as though forgetting Inaho's presence completely. As Troyard's chin dropped forward onto his cravat, and his arms fell limp at his sides, Inaho did not waste a second. He immediately scanned the table for the most suitable weapon. The carving knife would do.

In this cabin, he was completely free to move about, with nothing binding his hands or feet. He had little to lose should he fail - death awaited him anyway if he did nothing at all. And so, after he was certain that Troyard had fallen asleep, he quietly plucked the knife from the cloth and rose from his seat. It was a good thing his shoes had been taken from him upon his capture, for it made it all the easier to approach stealthily now. He gazed down at the slumped figure and raised the knife. It was the perfect opportunity. Everything had finally aligned in his favor. Yet just when finally he could be rid of this person and free himself, he hesitated. It was only a second, but it was long enough. A hand grasped his wrist, and he found himself staring into a pair of sea-green eyes.

"You've become so predictably reckless, Kaizuka," said Troyard, an odd, desperate strain in his voice, "Didn't I tell you I don't trust you?" Inaho followed his gaze to the pistol that was now pressed to his stomach. With a low hiss, Troyard released Inaho's arm and snatched the knife. He stood up quickly, sending Inaho stumbling backwards, and stabbed the blade into the wood of the table at Inaho's side. One of the wine glasses tipped, staining the cloth red.

"I'm really… not in the mood for mutiny tonight…" Troyard paused, a pained, melancholy smile wavering at his lips. "Is that not obvious to you?"

It was. Though his appearance was as neat and collected as ever, save for continually unruly hair, emotions were showing through like shadows behind a curtain, a flicker of anger, then lingering heartache and the weight of weariness.

"I should have you flogged, Kaizuka," said Troyard, "But even though you would murder me in my sleep, since it is the day of her peace I will grant you clemency this once."

Her peace? Inaho thought for a moment, trying to recall the general date. Ah, yes. It must be around that time by now. The third anniversary of the declaration of peace between the nations. It seemed bizarre that Troyard of all people would honor it, as he was perhaps its greatest enemy. Granted, he did not seem particularly happy about it. It was likely why he was pouring himself another glass of wine.

Troyard sank back into his chair. "Well, Kaizuka. If you can't eat a meal without becoming violent, then you'll simply go without. Your punishment will be no food or drink for three days. Consider yourself fortunate."

* * *

Inaho leaned against the wall of his cell, wishing he had emptied his glass before making that attempt. Yet, Troyard was right - it was lenient, especially considering that the penalty for mutiny even on the Deucalion was a minimum of thirty-nine lashes, if not death by hanging. And that was for those who belonged to the ship. For a prisoner, anything went, really. Not that pirates necessarily followed the usual rules at sea. In any case, he had expected something like this. He had made a decent attempt, and had failed through his own fault.

Hours passed. He lay on his back, staring up at the beams that constituted part of his prison. The wood was surprisingly smooth and clean. In fact, considering he was in the hold of the ship, a place where rats often gathered in the dark amongst cargo and filth, everything was exceptionally pristine. Troyard did not allow his crew to laze about, that was for sure. Two knots… three odd-shaped rings… the small, round head of a nail, slightly bent. He traced them visually, he counted them, he imagined things moving in their shapes. Anything to get his mind off of his body. It didn't work. Not really. But he continued anyway, for there was nothing else to do except for think - about the Deucalion, about how how hungry he was, about the constant throbbing pain in his shoulder, about what he would be willing to do for a single drop of water - and that made him feel far worse. His attention wandered to the large barrels that were lined up against the wall, a mere stone's throw away. They were filled with clean, delicious water, each and every one of them. The smaller barrels in the corner, nearly out of sight, likely contained grog that, while normally was not quite to his taste, at this point he would be willing to drink by the flagon. The first day passed slowly, but without any visitors bringing meals to him he could not be sure what time it was or how many hours had passed, except from what he could hear above him.

Another change of the watch. It must be dawn, though it was just as dark where he was. No one had come to put oil in the lantern, either, and for several hours he could see nothing at all. He rolled onto his side. Even the sloshing, putrid water of the nearby bilge sounded appealing. Someone was manning the pump, and the thought crossed his mind to ask them for something to drink. No… better not. Even if the person was kind enough to help him, which was unlikely, it would certainly be found out, and he would be the worse for it. The remaining time he did not remember well. He slept through much of it, which was both a blessing in the oblivion it provided and the cause of some anxiety, for several times he wondered whether he would wake up again if he let himself close his eyes. At long last, the one who eventually came was none other than Troyard himself.

A large tin cup in his hand, he kneeled down beside Inaho. "Can you sit up?" he inquired, quietly and with no obvious malice.

Inaho looked at him suspiciously, but finding his pride had vanished in the wake of his circumstances, he shook his head weakly and accepted whatever aid he could get. Troyard slipped an arm behind his shoulders and lifted him up slightly, before putting the cup to his lips. At first he could hardly swallow it, his mouth and throat were so dry, but soon he was drinking it in gulps, until suddenly it was pulled away from him. He tried to reach out for it, but his hand fell uselessly back to his side.

"Not so fast, you'll vomit," warned Troyard. It was too late. Inaho could already feel his stomach rejecting what little he had put in it, and a moment later it all came back out onto the floor. Troyard sighed a bit. "What did I tell you?"

It seemed like an eternity before he was allowed more, and this time he was able to keep it down. "Why.. are you.." he murmured.

Troyard looked down at him. "I will not allow you to die yet. I still need you."

 _"Yes, but why you, personally?"_   Inaho wondered, but before he could inquire any further, he suddenly found himself exceedingly tired. It was not long before he drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe there is now official pirate Inaho art


	4. Story 1

Inaho watched the lantern sway back and forth, it's light playing patterns on the walls of the hold. Above him feet hurried to and fro in hushed urgency. Despite the lack of voices, he could hear the metallic sound of weapons and determined that they must undergoing some kind of battle preparations. So Troyard was initiating his plan after all, whatever it was. For once, Inaho wished that he could participate. Normally the idea of having to think and give orders and watch all that went on down to the minutest detail, assessing and reassessing the plan of action, and then accordingly making adjustments whilst doing his own share of fighting, was tiresome at best. He only did it because there were people he wanted to protect. People who refused to live quietly at home and let others do the fighting. Three weeks ago he would gladly have sat on the floor, as he now did every day, idling away his life amongst cargo at the bottom of this ship, but after his failed attempt at escape and the miserable days that followed, he had steadily felt better and grown stronger, until he suddenly became acutely aware of how boring this was. Dining with Troyard was the only interesting part of his days, though the more time he spent in that man's presence, the less he understood him. Was he cruel? Was he kind? What was he trying to accomplish, really? Inaho hated to admit it, but whatever his true nature, Slaine Troyard was fascinating.

Eventually there was silence from above, and he wondered what kind of battle could be so quiet. Perhaps a stealth mission of some kind. Hours melted away, and he fell asleep to the steady rhythm of the bilge pump, accompanied by the tuneless humming of its operator.

"Come, get up." Someone nudged him with their foot, and he found himself looking up at Troyard. The pirate captain was covered in blood, sweat, and grime, his wispy blonde hair dusted thickly with what appeared to be soot. While his coat was torn in several places, his body was somehow unscathed. "I want to show you something," he added brusquely.

The fetters at Inaho's ankles were quickly unlocked, and he sat up, hauling himself to his feet and following wordlessly to wherever it was that Troyard was taking him. He hoped that it was not that his sister had finally made a move. As much as he would love to see her face again, he was more afraid of what would happen to her and the Deucalion in a direct confrontation with Troyard. After much walking and climbing, they made it to the deck above. It had been weeks since he last breathed fresh air, and the cool sea breeze, gentle under the waning moon, felt heavenly on his face. His enjoyment was cut short by the loud, echoing bang of an explosion, and he turned towards its source. Off the starboard side in the distance were at least a dozen ships in flames. The harbor was red with the reflection of a roaring blaze and the thickness of its smoke nearly blotted out the stars above.

"Is that…"

"Terra's most prized vessels. You've heard of fireships, and their general purpose, I presume?" Troyard leaned against the deck rail, and Inaho briefly considered shoving him overboard.

"Of course."

The idea was to set a ship on fire and then send it into the middle of an enemy fleet in order to either cause disorder or, as in this case, spread the flames to the other ships. Normally it was a difficult strategy to pull off, both because one had to first obtain a vessel to set on fire, and because the wind needed to be right for the ship to drift properly and quickly enough. Otherwise, someone would have to remain on it in order to steer it. By the looks of it, Troyard had stayed aboard that mass of fire for a decent amount of time before bailing to safety. Captains did not normally take on such a dangerous mission. It was insane.

"Before I set fire to their flagship," Troyard continued, "I took the liberty of removing this from the commodore's personal writing desk." He drew an envelope from his coat pocket. "Feel free to have a look."

One glance at the insignia on the seal confirmed that it was an official commission from the Terran government. Opening it quickly, he scanned over the contents of the letter. Most of it was the usual gibberish, meaningless words meant to impress, but one portion caught his attention.

" _...once the privateer Deucalion has engaged the pirate vessel Tharsis, immediately pursue the Allusia and sink her."_

"In other words," began Troyard, watching him fold the paper and slide it back into its envelope, "they planned to use you to keep me out of their way while they assassinate the Empress. Right now, she is about to set out on her return voyage from the peace celebrations in Terra. No doubt they also intend to blame it on me, or if it is convenient, you. And not just the Empress, but her sister, also. The entire remaining royal lineage in one go, so that Vers would be thrown into divided chaos and easily subdued. Now do you see it? Peace between Vers and Terra never existed."

"Are you saying that the only reason it appears that way is because, for the past three years, you have been stopping things like this...?" Inaho joined him at the deck rail, chains clinking against the smooth wood as he leaned against it. "If you are loyal to the Empress, why did you not become a privateer in her service?" he asked. Privateering was the logical choice for someone wishing to serve the realm on their own terms. They were the mercenaries of the sea.

Troyard shook his head. "Unlike you, I have no use for letters of marque. They are restrictive, and I require the freedom to act as I see fit, even if it means sinking Versian vessels as well. She has far more enemies under her nose than she realizes, so it is best if I am not associated with any government. Besides," he added with a dismal smile, "I was exiled."

It was an odd way of serving someone, yet somehow Inaho understood. He stared out at the glistening water, the blaze growing ever smaller on the horizon as they vanished into the night. This was a lot to process. Yet he could hardly refute what he had seen with his own eyes. The seal and signature could not have been easily forged, and though Troyard might have been able to pull it off, there would be no reason to go to such lengths to deceive him about something like this. There were easier ways, surely.

After another hour or so on deck, eventually Inaho was brought below once more. However, rather than back to the hold, Troyard led him to a small room.

"There is no longer reason to keep you in the hold," explained Troyard, "For now, my acting second in command does not wish to assume the position permanently, and has refused the accommodations that accompany it. Please make yourself comfortable. The room is yours to keep, if you will accept the position."

Inaho turned to him, wondering what exactly this sudden change in treatment meant. "Do you still plan to kill me if I refuse it?"

Troyard grinned at him. "Of course," he answered, and then departed, locking the door behind him.

* * *

"Interesting names," Inaho remarked as he peered at miniature wooden ships set like chess pieces on a map, which was spread out over a table. Troyard had allowed him into his personal quarters to select reading material to pass the time, and he couldn't help but cast a glance about the room.

"I find them easier to recall," Troyard explained, "Besides, I doubt the word Deucalion would have fit on the model."

Inaho leaned down to look at one in particular, at the edge of the map. "Hell?"

"Helle… Hellis?" Troyard attempted to remember, and then waved a hand dismissively, "It was too long."

"You mean Hellas? It's not that long... also, I thought I sunk her ages ago."

Troyard looked at him incredulously. " _You_  sunk her? Aren't you forgetting something?" Met with silence, he continued, "Anyhow, this here is a different ship, built by Countess Femieanne's daughter. The number two wouldn't fit, either."

The four letters did take up the whole space, but only because the capital 'h' was disproportionately large, and the swooping tail of the the 'e', ridiculously long for its position at the middle of the word, occupied any remaining room.

"It's because your penmanship is too sprawling…" Inaho muttered, trying not to let his amusement show.

"Pardon?" Troyard looked at him, expression on the verge of offense.

Inaho pretended not to hear. Instead he focused his attention on the books. "Isn't it a bit careless of you to allow me in here? I have a very good memory."

"I'm well aware that you could replicate that map three years from now with perfect accuracy, but this knowledge will be obsolete in a week or so. In any case, dead men don't talk. Whatever you see in here - it really won't matter when you're lying on the ocean floor."

" _When?_ " Inaho glanced over his shoulder at Troyard, who had wandered over to stand just behind him.

"You show no signs of being convinced, even after all I've revealed to you. It's… a shame, really," Troyard added, almost wistfully. And for a single, fleeting moment, there was a forlorn look in his eyes.

Inaho turned back to the books, and traced a finger over their spines. "Don't be so eager to murder me," he said coolly, "As I told you once before, I have yet to reach a conclusion." There was silence. When a minute or so had passed, he thought that Troyard must have left the room and turned to see if he was still there. He was, and Inaho found himself face-to-face with the pirate. "Th-though," he faltered, slightly startled and taking a step back, "I… must say that your treatment of me has hardly been favorable to your cause."

Troyard raised his eyebrows with a dubious smile, "You don't leave me much choice. Would you have listened any other way?"

He had a point. Most people did not take kindly to being assaulted at dinner, whoever they might be. And not long ago, given the chance, Inaho would have killed Troyard before the man could open his mouth. "No," Inaho replied, "But I don't believe that would make much difference. You do hate me, do you not?"

Troyard gave a cynical laugh and dropped into a chair. "As much as I enjoy plaguing you, it would make for a poor partnership if I were to hate my closest subordinate. Still, I cannot say that I like you."

So he did enjoy it, the sadistic fiend. Yet here he was, showing Inaho his literary collection like and old friend. More contradictions. Troyard made less sense by the minute.

"You would have someone you dislike working alongside you?"

Clear marine eyes angled up at him from under a shroud of thick lashes. "It is far easier to work with someone you don't trust, believe me. At least when they turn on you, you're prepared for it."

"Even if they've tried to kill you multiple times in the past?" Supposing he did accept Troyard's request, he found it hard to imagine how they would even work together, when they had only ever fought.

"Kaizuka," the name lingered, and Troyard twisted a few strands of hair thoughtfully between his thumb and forefinger, "I know that you are not a man opposed to exploiting others, so I believe on this point we can understand one another. If a person is useful, whether friend or foe, it is a waste not to use them. It is as simple as that."

Fittingly, Inaho had just drawn a copy of Machiavelli's "Il Principe" from the shelf. He ran his thumb over the stamped cloth cover.

"Fair enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started out as a 5k oneshot, and then I started editing... sigh


	5. Story 1

Inaho woke to canonfire. It was only one shot - likely a warning or a signal, and too distant to be from the Tharsis. He sat up and tried to look out from his small porthole, but he could see nothing aside from the endless expanse of ocean. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. Resigned to sit out whatever this was, as he had the last time, he lay down on his bed. It was nice, finally getting to sleep in a proper bed again, with a blanket and nothing rough around his ankles or wrists. He dozed, having nothing in particular to do, and only roused again at the sound of a knock on his door and a key in the lock. The usual girl entered as he sat up.

"The Captain has requested your presence on deck," she said shortly. Inaho nodded, and after she had secured his wrists, he followed after her. "The Captain seems to think you are a worthwhile effort," she said with a small, dignified sigh as they walked, "Please do not disappoint him."

A 'worthwhile effort'? Inaho thought about what he had been told the other night, and read with his own eyes. Perhaps…

He squinted in the sudden light as they climbed up onto the main deck. As expected, Troyard was there, standing in the sun, boots squarely on the deck, and arms relaxed at his sides. Burgundy coattails fluttered in the breeze. He was wearing his hat for once, something that only seemed to appear on his head when there was someone he wished to intimidate, though there was nothing particularly menacing about it aside from the alarming dimensions of its plume. Inaho found a petty satisfaction in seeing that the small chunk he had once clipped from it with a bullet still remained visible, though at the same time it reminded him of how narrowly he had missed his target that day. It had been several years since then.

But more importantly, the Deucalion was also there, just across the water. The two ships were within speaking distance, and it was obvious that that was exactly what they intended to do. It seemed that they had been awaiting his arrival.

"Kaizuka!" called the Deucalion's captain the moment he appeared. The formal address exuded sisterly concern, and he could see her hands grip the rail as she sought to maintain composure.

"As you can see," said Troyard in a clear, loud voice, taking hold of the link between Inaho's cuffs and, with a firm yank, sending him stumbling forward by it, "Inaho Kaizuka is alive and well. I cannot promise that this will still be the case if you open fire on us. However," he paused, closed his eyes, and exhaled, "I will return him to you, on one condition. You will not attack or otherwise hinder the Tharsis or anyone aboard her until three weeks have passed from today."

Inaho looked back over his shoulder in surprise. Troyard was modifying things at the last minute - he should have anticipated that something might change, but he had somehow gotten too comfortable lately. Perhaps even that was part of Troyard's plan; he could never be sure what the pirate was up to. Three weeks… it must be to give Troyard time to ensure the Allusia's safe passage home, in the event that Terra launched any secondary operations against her. Right now, it was impossible to determine whether his sister had received any orders to abort the mission, but Troyard was probably right. There was a distinct possibility that the Empress was still in danger, though it would be an ill-advised move for Terra to revive a war without its best ships.

Now by offering to return Inaho, Troyard was taking more extreme measures to buy time, or he was expressing some kind of trust. It was a more risky arrangement than simply using Inaho as a shield, that was certain, but at the same time it was an effective means of getting the Deucalion out of the picture entirely for a short time. That is, if Captain Yuki Kaizuka was willing to bargain.

At the moment, she seemed less than pleased with his terms. "You think we will simply allow you to do as you please for nearly a month?" she shot back at him.

Troyard's head tilted forward slightly and his expression darkened. "I do. You will accept my terms-" he paused and reached under his coat to retrieve a pistol. Pressing it to Inaho's left temple, he gazed back across the water at the Deucalion, "-or I'll kill him. What will it be, Captain Kaizuka? Are Terra's orders worth your brother's life?"

Seconds dragged on in tense silence. His sister had frozen, almost as though she feared if she moved even to speak, Troyard would pull the trigger. As expert a leader as she was, the single crack in her defenses had been discovered and was now being forcibly pried open. Inaho gritted his teeth. He would not watch this any longer. With a calmness that even he did not expect, he reached up and boldly shoved the gun away. Troyard looked so caught off guard that Inaho thought for a moment that he would be shot simply for his impudence. At the same time Yuki's hand had flown to her mouth and she looked nearly ready to leap over the water to him. But as he began to assess the situation with more clarity, he realized that Troyard would not shoot him. It wasn't so much a strategic reasoning as it was a gut feeling.

"Your methods are horrible," he muttered crossly, for he understood Troyard's motive despite everything and it irritated him that things were not as clear-cut as they used to be. "Let me speak with her."

Troyard stared at him for a long minute, and then lowered the gun. "One of these days you're going to get yourself killed," he grumbled.

"But not by you."

Troyard clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Don't test me, Kaizuka. What exactly do you plan to say to her?"

"Listen for yourself."

As Inaho urged his sister to comply with Troyard's terms, he wondered how self-serving his counsel must sound to her. But the more he thought about it, the more sure he was of Troyard's sincerity, at least in regards to this matter. His actions, his words, his past - though there were parts that were contradictory, overall it added up. And most of all, he felt instinctively that Troyard was right. Now it all rested on how well he could convince Yuki in this less than ideal setting. It would be better if he could discuss it with her privately, but that simply was not possible at the moment. More often than not, she would listen to him, but there had been times when she had disregarded him completely. And so the wait as she considered his words was painfully uncertain. His primary hope was in her trust, for there was no other reason for her to do as he asked, unless she was already prepared to sacrifice everything for him.

At long last she spoke. "Three weeks, Troyard. Not a day longer."

To Inaho's surprise, someone was immediately sent to fetch the things that had been taken from him upon his capture. Troyard had a boat prepared to return him to the Deucalion.

"If you change your mind…" he said quietly as he freed Inaho's wrists. "I still want you."

Inaho glanced up at him. "You are perfectly capable on your own, Troyard," he said, rubbing his wrists, "Together we would only slow one other down - it's better if we operate separately."

"Do you intend to turn the Deucalion to piracy, then?" Troyard asked, eyebrows raised. He deposited Inaho's things into his arms.

"No. It's better that they remain under the protection of the realm. I will be leaving the Deucalion."

"Then you do plan to return here..."

"Didn't I just say it would be better if we worked apart?" reminded Inaho as he pulled on his hat, "I have a friend who builds ships. There is something of mine he's been keeping safe for me."

Troyard's eyes widened. "... the Sleipnir?!"

"Yes," Inaho confirmed with a nod. "However, given the circumstances, there isn't time for me to outfit a vessel. You'll need some assistance before then - you won't be able to pull the same trick twice, especially not on the open sea. The Deucalion will back you. Please do not wipe out the fleet this time, the enlisted are not to blame. We will simply send them home."

Troyard stared at him, his mouth opening and closing several times before he appeared to collect himself and drew his lips into a thoughtful frown. His eyebrows knit contemplatively as he considered Inaho's words. "Sending them home... they'll talk... you... intend to take the fall for the Deucalion."

"I do." If Troyard was correct, this was the right course of action. He did not particularly relish the idea of taking up leadership again, but if peace and lives were at stake, he could hardly sit back and watch from the comfort of his cabin. It would take some work to convince Yuki, but he was confident he could persuade her to his line of thought. She would not like it, though.

As he climbed down into the boat that was to take him back to the Deucalion, he looked up at Troyard. "You said that it's better to work alongside people you don't trust, but you already have two very trustworthy comrades at your side. They won't betray you."

Troyard's expression softened a little, but he said nothing.

"Also, I have one question," Inaho added. He sat down on the bench as they prepared to lower the boat. "What do you do with all the spoils? Do you destroy them? It is obvious that you don't keep them for yourself." The query had been burning in his mind for some time.

"Are you saying my ship is shabby?" replied Troyard with a wry smile, "Yes, sometimes I burn them, but only if it's unavoidable. Usually, I give them away. Many citizens of Vers are starving."

Ah, so that was it. It was a reassuring answer. "Farewell, Troyard," he called to the Tharsis' captain as the boat began to lower.

Troyard smiled briefly. "Goodbye, Kaizuka."

* * *

Inaho collapsed onto his bed. Finally, his own bed. After briefly greeting his comrades and seeing the ship's surgeon, he had gone straight to his cabin to rest and collect himself. As he had feared, his left eye would not see again. The surgeon wished to remove it, as it would only cause pain and future complications intact, but Inaho had decided to put it off for a little while at least. A patch would cover it for now. He needed to be functional for the next few weeks. Grateful that his shoulder was healing well, he closed his eyes and pulled the blanket over himself.

Something fell onto the floor. It was a metal sound, like a coin or key. He peered over the edge of his bed to see what it was, and if it was anything important. There on the smooth wood floor was a round, silver pendant attached to a fine chain. A blue cross was inlaid with the design of its surface. This was…

"Troyard…" he muttered, picking it up and turning it over in the palm of his hand.

He ran a thumb over the smooth back. It had been so long since he had seen this trinket, he had completely forgotten that he possessed it. At some point in the past, years ago, he had acquired it quite by accident, through some series of events. What the pendant was doing under his pillow, he could not recall, but he thought it must have to do with the fact that the last time he had slept in this bed was the night before the duel. Whatever the case, it mattered little now. He looked around for somewhere safe to stow it in case he decided to return it at some point, or perhaps use it as a bargaining chip if ever the need arose. This amulet was probably important to him. Inaho opened a drawer to deposit it in an envelope, but he found himself hesitating. He stared at it, and tilted the envelope a few times to watch it slide and turn and shine, and then he took it out again and clasped it around his neck. The silver was cool against his chest where he tucked it under his shirt. At last, exhausted, he blew out his lamp and crawled back into bed.

_"Until we meet again, Slaine Troyard."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I ended up drawing from canon much more than I originally intended, but I think it works? Maybe… anyway, I’m glad I decided to post as a multi-chap, because as I edited each chapter, the plot changed quite a bit, and I think the end result is much better than the first draft (though I'm still very wishy-washy about this ending //sweats). As of yet I haven’t been successful at writing a oneshot (Onion of War does not count), I think it’s much harder than it looks to write something concise like that, or at least it is for me. One day, perhaps...
> 
> In any case, thanks for reading! Your support is very much appreciated. ^^


	6. Story 2

"Tell me again why we're in this godforsaken place," said Inaho as he watched his companion crouch on the floor of the cave they had taken refuge in and gently breathe embers to life. It was the twelfth of September, and a rather ferocious summer storm had taken them by surprise while they were setting up camp on the beach.

Troyard carefully added tinder to the growing fire. "This will benefit both nations, as well as those of us in between, Kaizuka. You must be aware of that," Troyard replied, eyes still fixed on his task. He added some larger twigs and pulled back as they popped and crackled from the dampness.

"If this so-called power has any real value, you mean." Only a few months after his time as a captive aboard the Tharsis, Troyard had approached him - or rather, accosted him in the middle of the ocean, having somehow learnt of his current whereabouts and pursuing as relentlessly as ever - and after helping himself to a particularly expensive bottle of wine, announced he wished to investigate something supposedly of utmost importance. Throughout their unfortunately long dinner, during which Inaho more than once despaired of ever getting rid of his unwelcome guest, Troyard had spilled forth his glorious plan to find and claim the legendary Aldnoah. Skeptical as he was, Inaho had somehow been conned into agreeing to accompany Troyard on this fool's errand, and thus here he was, very wet and uncomfortable, with only the pack on his back and the clothes on his body to provide comfort and security in the dreaded coming days.

Having coaxed the fire to a steady flame, Troyard stood up and brushed the soil from his hands. "You still doubt it? My father spent his life searching for Aldnoah-"

"And his death..." Inaho added under his breath.

"According to him, it has the power to help thousands. It could end hunger, bring prosperity and safety to all. The information he gathered is substantial," Troyard explained once more, as he had a dozen times over every time Inaho expressed misgivings, "He was the only one to keep looking for it, when all of Vers gave up."

"Vers was a mistake from the beginning. Colonizing a desert is inadvisable no matter how you look at it, whether some mystical power exists there or not. Which, given your father's data and our current location, it does not." They had anchored in the small cove of an uninhabited island, quite distant from either nation, or any civilization for that matter.

"You may be right," admitted Troyard, "but there's no going back now. The mistake's been made, and someone's got to mend it. The way this world is headed, everything will collapse eventually."

Troyard had a point, but that point still had little to do with him. 'Eventually' was the key word that let him off the hook, in his opinion. "It's not really my responsibility…" he muttered, crouching by the fire to toast his clammy fingers. The air was cooling a little too quickly, perhaps because it was nearly nightfall. "Someone else can play hero. We've done our best and worst already, it's time we stepped aside and let some other fools drive themselves to ruin. Why is it so cold here? It's only September..."

Troyard pressed a hand to his forehead and gave a long, deliberate sigh. "If you're only going to complain, why did you come, Kaizuka?" he asked, as if he hadn't been a tremendous pest about this for weeks until Inaho had finally given in.

"I'm curious. This Aldnoah - I'm sure it exists. There is evidence of it all over the globe. What I want to know, however, is  _what_ exactly it is. Is it science? Is it god? Is it an elaborate hoax? A joke? I'll endure trekking through the jungle with you if it means finding an answer."

That was only part of his reason for coming. Aside from having been practically forced into it, the most important motivation for his eventual acquiescence was the realization that if Troyard's information and instincts proved correct, and he succeeded in finding what it was he was looking for, the man would come in direct contact with an overwhelming amount of power. Troyard was undeniably dangerous, and if the past said anything about the current, unrestricted version of him, extremely susceptible to the allure of strength, influence, and authority. And while his intentions were perhaps, usually, commendable, his methods were historically far less so. Thus, Inaho had agreed to come primarily to prevent anything catastrophic from happening should this Aldnoah have the ability to truly make drastic changes in the world. If they uncovered the legend, he would either seize it before Troyard could lay a finger on it, destroy it, or otherwise seal it away forever if possible.

Troyard looked at him with wry amusement. "That's it? Curiosity?" he was obviously not buying it, but Inaho hardly assumed he would. In fact, he was fairly certain Troyard had already guessed his true purpose, but in the end it mattered little whether he knew or not. It would likely come down to some kind of conflict in the end regardless. Troyard took a draught from his canteen, wiped his mouth, and stuffed it back in his pack. "None of that bothersome philanthropy for you, I see. Well, as long as you're dedicated, I don't particularly care what you're here for."

Inaho watched the other wander off a little ways to examine the walls of the cavern. "In any case," said Inaho, "there was absolutely no reason for us to come alone. Even a few extra hands could prove very helpful, we don't know what kinds of trouble we'll be facing, or if there are potentially hostile inhabitants on this island." He certainly hoped there were none. Melee combat was not his forte, and one encounter with captivity in his lifetime was more than enough.

He heard Troyard laugh somewhere at the back of the cave, obscured by the darkness. "That's precisely  _why_  we came alone. You've still only got a skeleton crew, what would you do if they died here?"

"There's no one particularly outstanding among them, they can be replaced."

"Oh? Chilling words from the man who once accused me of treating my men with cruelty. Anyhow, you won't recruit anyone worthwhile with a piece of driftwood like  _that_  for a ship."

Inaho jabbed the already fading fire with a stick. "Sleipnir is practical."

"Sleipnir is an atrocity. That's why you need a more interesting reputation, or at least a less unpopular one, or you'll only ever gain the desperate bottom feeders whose greatest ambition is to obtain enough coins to afford pleasurable company at the next port. Honestly, with your charm it's a wonder you have any crew at all."

"I don't recall asking your advice on this matter," Inaho muttered. This discussion was getting a little too personal, and Troyard's ever nebulous intentions still consistently unsettled him. It was easy to get comfortable with that spirited chatter, but Inaho knew better than to unquestioningly accept it as harmless.

"When we return, I'll take you to some places," Troyard offered, "You're bound to find  _someone_  of value if you're with me."

This was likely true. Troyard was as much an idol in some circles as he was a villain in others. It was extraordinary the way people rallied around him, even now in his infamy. Yet accepting aid from Troyard, aside from being immensely disagreeable even in theory, would certainly come with some kind of hefty price. He would like to avoid owing Troyard if at all possible. Ever. "Troyard, I have no interest in your disreputable haunts," he declined strategically, playing a very flimsy propriety card.

"Nothing in this line of work is reputable, Kaizuka. May as well embrace it. Ah!" he exclaimed, "Look at this!"

Filing away the response just forming on his tongue for later discussion, Inaho hauled himself to his feet, took a branch from the fire, and followed after Troyard's voice. "What is it? A clue?" He moved the simple torch slowly to guide his way.

Troyard was standing at the back of the cavern looking intently at something on the wall. "I'm not sure. See this writing?" he pointed to series of engraved markings. They were surprisingly clear and free from the wear of time.

Inaho held the flame closer and contemplatively traced the lines and curves with his fingertips. "This here was in a page you saved from your father's notebook, right?"

"Yes, and this one, too," Troyard tapped another section, and immediately the entire passage of writing illuminated in a white flash.

Inaho retracted his own hand instantly, but the floor beneath them had already vanished, and the light became a distant vision as they tumbled into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasn't /originally/ planning to continue this fic, but since I ended it with such a sequel tease (unintentional, I swear), and having an idea I'd been wanting to use that meshed rather well with this au, I've decided to go full steam ahead with Corsaire: Part 2. With Shattered Chains complete, I'll likely be working on this as my main fic for the time being. I hope you'll enjoy it! ^^;


	7. Story 2

The drop was not nearly as far as Inaho had imagined, though the sensation of falling into a potentially endless abyss was far from pleasant. Surprised, justifiably terrified, and without anything else to grab onto, the two had shamelessly clung to each other in their descent. The almost immediate impact with the ground came as a welcome relief for the split second before they began to roll further down into the hole, and then they were falling again, much further this time. While having Troyard to cushion his final landing was fortunate for his own wellbeing, he found himself worrying whether the other man was alive, or if he'd crushed him to death. A soft groan confirmed the former.

"Good god you're heavy, get off of me!" Troyard complained, though still too stunned to move.

Inaho carefully slipped his hands from beneath Troyard's head, which he'd somehow had the foresight to protect from dashing against the ground as they tumbled along, and slowly crawled off of him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his genuine concern mostly due to the fact that his companion's health had much to do with his own at this point.

"Barely, no thanks to you," Troyard shot back, and Inaho could hear him sitting up, "What is this place?"

"I don't know, I didn't finish reading the inscription before you set it off."

As if to punctuate his words, the white light above went out and they could hear the door that had opened beneath them, now distant, slowly close again.

Troyard swore under his breath. "I should have known this place would be booby trapped. No wonder no one's ever returned from this quest."

"You failed to mention that before..." muttered Inaho as he crawled around a bit and felt along the wall and ground. "But I don't believe this is a trap."

"How is this not a trap?"

"There are no bodies. If it were a trap, there should be a pile of them. I doubt we're the only ones to have ever chanced upon this place, so somewhere here must be a way out, at least to another chamber or - ah," he stopped abruptly.

"What? What did you find?" Troyard's eager inquiry almost sounded spooked.

It was the perfect time for a practical joke, and Inaho wished it _was_ a joke, but there in the inky darkness before him was the unmistakable feel and form of a skeleton. "It… feels like bones."

"Spectacular," Troyard replied dryly, though not without an edge of worry to his voice. "So it _is_ a trap."

It was hardly his job to provide encouragement, but talking through the situation rationally with Troyard was the best option. "No, this doesn't mean there's no way out," he reasoned. It was really too bad the fall had snuffed out his makeshift torch, because they could use some light right about now. "They might've just fallen on their head, or been too dull-witted to consider looking for an exit."

"You do realize that at one time, that was a living, breathing, human being, right?"

"Actually, it could be an animal. I'd rather not touch it any more than necessary, so we'll assume it's human for the time being," and with that he crept past the pile of unidentified bones, continuing his search for some form of exit.

Troyard sighed audibly. "That wasn't my point. Anyway, shouldn't there be a pair of them? I mean, it took two people to activate that mechanism just now. If it's an animal, it came out from this so-called exit or pathway you speak of, which I might add would be a concern rather than a relief."

This was admittedly true - an animal might prove an added danger, especially since they hadn't brought any sort of hunting gear aside from knives and pistols - the latter would be far too dangerous to use in a dark, enclosed space - and any creature that lived in this kind of environment must be at an incredible advantage as far as the senses were concerned. He turned his thoughts back to the human option. "I don't feel any others. If this is the only body, and it's a human, there must be a way out, then. Help me look."

In the meantime, Inaho was simply glad it wasn't rotting flesh he'd just touched. And considering he'd already thought of the possibility of finding something dead here, dry bones was somewhat of a relief. The clean, moist, earthy scent in the air was another comforting assurance that nothing recently deceased was lurking nearby for his searching hands to find.

"Got left for dead, did you?" Troyard muttered to the skeleton with a cynical laugh as he scuffed along on all fours, "I suppose some partnerships weren't meant to last."

Indeed - this poor fellow's had been unfortunately short, if betrayal had been his end. It seemed odd for someone to kill their companion so early on, though, with no apparent motivation. There was only one conclusion he could reach given their current understanding of their surroundings. "Starvation can lead to desperate measures," he reasoned aloud, "If that was the case, we can assume the exit is very well hidden and could take some time to find. This pit seems extensive."

There was a pause in the shuffling behind him, and then a quiet "I sincerely hope it won't come to that, Kaizuka."

"Indeed. Speaking of, do you have your pack?"

"I… left it by the fire."

Inaho quickly ran the mental mathematics for their supplies, estimated rations, and number of expected days before exhausting their current stash. "We'll be alright for four days, at most," he concluded.

"That's not bad, I suppose. Hold up, don't you have heaps of food with you?"

Ignoring Troyard's assumption that he planned on sharing - though given the unpleasant implications of their recent discussion, it might be in his own best interest to do so - he brusquely pointed out the real issue at hand. "Yes, but we only have one, near-empty canteen. I had meant to fill it and the others at the creek but then the storm came up."

"Ah… water."

Though admittedly the vindictive streak in him found it almost fitting for Troyard to suffer from extreme thirst, he did not wish to repeat the experience himself. The following moments were filled only with the sound of fabric dragging across dirt and stone as they searched tirelessly for some kind of opening. There had to be one.

What must have been hours passed and not one hole or crevice or door could be found. As far as they could tell, they were in a cylindrical stone pit with a comparatively thin layer of dirt over the rock below them. The walls were too smooth to climb, there was not even a single crack in them that might indicate a loose stone opening to a passageway. What they did find was four more skeletons. Not exactly a pleasant discovery, but the math was in their favor. With five total, either a third had fallen in with a pair, or at least one person had made it out.

"Did your father's research include anything about this?" asked Inaho, at last leaning back against the wall and trying to think through this rationally. He was finding it difficult to do so when the reality of the situation was hanging so heavily in the air. The complete darkness was not exactly calming, either.

He heard Troyard settle nearby to this left. "He wrote almost exclusively about Aldnoah itself, except the single hypothesis that there was once a connected ancient civilization, and that it might be located where such a people group once existed. Not a word about caves and traps."

"I see." He would have liked to have read the notebook for himself, but Troyard apparently no longer possessed it, having committed it to memory and burned it, save for a few pages containing an incomplete cryptograph and a few illustrations. Yet another reason to be cautious. If Troyard had already established that his value was greater alive than dead, he would need a similar insurance. There was no telling what kind of troubles lay ahead, if they ever even managed to make it out of this pit. He shivered as his damp clothes were chilled in the drafty air.

"A draft…" It was the most obvious evidence of an exit, but where was it? Was it coming from where they had entered? But that had sealed up after them…

"Up."

Inaho looked habitually in the direction of Troyard's voice. The pause must have communicated his questioning look, because Troyard elaborated. "The exit is above us. It took two of us to get in here, it takes two to get out… come, stand up." He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him forward. "Hold still," Troyard instructed. A moment later there was a boot on either shoulder and he was slowly walking the perimeter, face to the wall as Troyard felt along above.

"Why am I on the bottom…" he groused. Troyard's boots were digging painfully, and the man was not exactly light either. "Are you going to abandon me here, as well?" They now had a decent idea of why there was an odd number of skeletons in the pit. Being used as a ladder and then left to starve alone in the dark was only a slightly less unpleasant thought than the murdered-and-eaten theory.

"Of course not," Troyard responded, "You simply don't have the strength required to pull me up from above."

It was true that Troyard was taller, broader, and weightier than him, and though it had healed up well over the past several months, his shoulder was still not quite what it used to be. It would be far easier for Troyard to pull him up than the other way around. The fact did little to assuage his current vexation, however, or the increasing discomfort in his shoulders. And Troyard had called _him_ heavy.

"Found it!" Troyard exclaimed with rather shaky relief. The pressure on his shoulders vanished as Troyard crawled into what was presumably a passageway above. "Give me your hand."

They groped around in the darkness until their hands eventually met, and Troyard began to haul him up. It was a struggle, but after being dropped twice, and having his arms dragged across stone, and nearly knocking himself unconscious colliding with Troyard as he came up, at last he was safely out of the pit.

* * *

Inaho followed wordlessly behind Troyard as they crawled through the passageway. It was not quite high enough to sit up in, which was extremely uncomfortable in more than the physical sense. That, with the continuous lack of any light whatsoever, made him incredibly uneasy as the feeling of needing to escape this tight, enclosed space began to build, threatening to turn to panic at any moment. He could hear Troyard right in front of him, but every so often he reached out with one hand just to be sure the man was still there, and he wasn't following something else entirely. He wasn't one to be superstitious, or believe much at all in the way of the supernatural, but this place had already proved itself to be rather eerie. The last thing he wanted was to get separated now, or find himself being led along by some creature bent on luring him to his death. The tunnel seemed eternal, and so eventually they were forced to stop and rest as best they could in such tight quarters. Laying flat out on their stomachs was the most comfortable position. Turning around was near impossible. He hoped nothing would come at them from the front, because they would be forced to retreat by crawling backwards, or risk getting stuck in an attempt to turn. It was small consolation that Troyard would be killed first in such an attack.

"Shall we press on?" asked Troyard reluctantly, when some minutes had passed.

Inaho agreed and they took up their crawling again. He wondered where in the world this lead to, and whether they weren't simply crawling to their untimely deaths, or even straight around the globe. If the underworld truly existed, he wouldn't be surprised if this tunnel led straight to its ghastly gates. Yet they never reached anything. On and on they went, knees scraping along the bumpy floor of the tube they were creeping through like voles in a garden bed, palms cut and swollen from the unaccustomed wear and strain. Every so often he heard a thump, and a variety of curses, as Troyard hit his head on some low-hanging portion of the ceiling. Fortunately, they were not traveling fast enough for the collisions to cause any real damage to his skull, but he was likely to have a rather bluish forehead once they got into the light again.

"Did you hear that?" asked Troyard, stopping with such abruptness that Inaho's face collided forcefully with his rear.

Inaho clutched his nose. "No. What did it sound like?"

There was a pause, and he wondered whether Troyard had heard him, until the uncertain response eventually came: "Birds… I think."

"Birds? An exit…" He had been so certain they were going downward all this time, from the angle and pressure on his wrists.

"I think there's light ahead… I'm going to check it out."

Inaho gave some absent minded response, his attention being occupied with the strangeness of the stone beneath him, which he had stopped to investigate. The floor had changed somehow, but he wasn't quite sure in what way.

"Troyard, stop!" he warned, far too late. That strange floor was moving away from him, sliding back into the walls, and he crawled desperately after Troyard, trying not to think about what kind of chasm he would vanish into this time.  As he felt himself falling once again, he wondered if Troyard at least had made it to safety. The frigid embrace of water banished all further thought.  It dragged at his clothes and stiffened his already tensed muscles, and once the initial splash and rush were over, he was left in silence with only the thump of his own heartbeat in his ears.  Then, very suddenly, came the terrible realization of what had happened, and that he was both unable to breathe and horribly disoriented. His arms and legs knocked against the walls as he began a frantic search for the surface.

Seconds passed. His lungs felt as though they might burst from holding in the small measure of air he'd managed to gasp in his fall. The pool was only slightly wider than the tunnel above, and its stone walls scraped and bruised, too slippery to grab hold of and only serving to trap him in as he pounded bitterly at them.  Eventually he tried to brace himself between them, his energy at its limit even if he had known which direction to swim. Where was the surface? _Where was the air?_ His feet ached to touch some kind of solid ground. Just one reassuring tap... But the bottom could be leagues away.  He would rather die where he was than drift endlessly down into this abyss, where anything could be lurking in the darkness.  With his shoulders pressed to one wall and his knees to the other, he clung to the hope that he would soon fall unconscious, and avoid having to fully experience the rest of this.

Time dragged on. Everything was numb except his mind and his aching chest.  He would not be able to hold his position for much longer.  Perhaps if he inhaled, it would speed things up.  Every fiber of him wanted to take a breath.  Just one...

He had almost opened his mouth when a white light appeared.  It was not terribly far away, but it was too far for him now.  His muscles relaxed and he let himself fall, and as he slipped away, he saw something move above.  The water stirred around it, sending tiny waves and bubbles to caress his frigid skin. Someone was grabbing hold of him, and he thought he must be dreaming as he was pulled towards that blinding light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! ;u;/ Sorry for the uh... 3+ month wait... _(:'3


	8. Story 2

The light was too bright.  It hurt his eye even though it was closed.  Someone was carrying him, and he didn’t care who or where, so long as it was away from where he just was.  Nearly as soon as he was pulled from the water he had begun coughing it out of his lungs, into which he must have inhaled it after all at some point on the way up.  Each breath was difficult and painful with his chest tense and constricted from the cold, and his throat and nose burned too.  Even after coughing again and again, he couldn’t escape the feeling that there was something in his lungs keeping him from getting enough air.

He felt the ground beneath his back, and warmth all around him.  Someone was there, loosely gripping his shoulder and brushing the wet hair back from his face.  It was still too bright, but when he peered through a squinted eye, vision adjusting slowly, there was Troyard looking down at him.  His dripping hair glistened in the sun, framed by an azure sky, and droplets gathered along his dark lashes, rolling off each time he blinked.  As paradisiacal as his surroundings appeared to him, with its lush greens and blues, the gentle warmth of the fragrant air and the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, he was glad that this was not the afterlife.  Somehow, Troyard had brought him back.  He went limp against the ground, still gasping and coughing as he tried to make up for the air he’d been deprived of for too long.

“I...I’m sorry...” came Troyard’s voice, and Inaho thought his ears must be deceiving him if not for the genuinely distressed expression that accompanied those words.  “I wasn’t thinking.”

 _“Obviously,”_ Inaho would have liked to retort, but only coughed instead.  His breathing was beginning to steady, but talking was still out.

As he lay on his back, staring up at the cloudless mid morning sky, he realized that they must have been underground for quite some time.  It had been evening when they took shelter in that cave, and fell through into the pit.  Neither of them had slept a wink, either.  Wherever they were now seemed like a good place to stop and rest, and so that was precisely what he did.  He was exhausted enough to sleep for days.

Troyard was not finished, however.  “I had to open the door to let some light in, or I’d have come after you earlier.  It’s a good thing you thought to stay put, or else I’d have had a hard time finding you.”

He hadn’t anchored himself to be saved - rather the opposite - but there was no sense in mentioning that to Troyard.  He nodded once and closed his eye to rest some more.

“Ah, the tack's wet through,” Troyard spoke again, apparently oblivious to the fact that someone was trying to sleep, and digging without permission through the pack that did not belong to him, “I don’t suppose it'll dry in the sun?”

“No, it won’t,” Inaho replied hoarsely, “We’ll eat it wet, and save the other provisions.  It’s been a while since we’ve had a meal.”

Waterlogged sea biscuits were hardly a meal, but more than ever they needed to be careful with their food supply.

“Mm… but there’s a lot of it.  A pity it can’t be preserved somehow.  Ah, the gunpowder, too...”

Inaho sighed, and sat up.  “We don’t need that.”

“You’re getting up?  You should probably rest.  Oh, but give me your shirt, I’ll hang it to dry.”

Only now did he notice that Troyard had already removed the majority of his own clothing and was sitting amongst a cloud of blue wildflowers in nothing but his drawers.  His first thought was to wonder when and why Troyard had been flogged, but remembering his manners, he did not let his gaze linger long.  Troyard’s past was his own business.  Following suit, he peeled off his own sopping wet clothes, starting with his saturated boots, and allowed Troyard to hang the fabric articles in the branches of a nearby tree.

The sun felt warm on his skin, and along with a soft summer breeze, he was dry in no time.  It was tempting to stay in this comfortable place, but there was probably some kind of danger here as well.  They shouldn’t let their guard down too much simply because everything appeared to be fine.  Nightfall was especially concerning, but it was many hours away yet and for now they could rest and regroup.

“We should leave here before sunset,” said Troyard, seemingly reading his thoughts. “This place is terrifying enough in the daylight, I’d hate to see what emerges in the dark.”

Inaho glanced around again.  Had he missed something?  At the moment nothing looked particularly threatening, but then he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings until just now.

Troyard stood up to hang the now empty satchel from the tree to dry.  “You don’t see it?” he glanced over his shoulder at Inaho, “Well then, don’t stray too far, and don’t touch anything.  And I do mean _anything_ , Kaizuka.  I haven’t had a chance examine this place thoroughly, but on the way here I noticed many deadly flowers blooming by the path.  This little lawn is about the only place that appeared safe.  The path led right to it, so we’ll assume only the path and this spot are free of danger.  Don't drink from that creek, either, I’ll get water from the cave in a little while.  It’s likely filled with toxins from the plants here.”

“You intend to go back into that trap?”  If some accident befell Troyard, he doubted he had the energy left to rescue him.

“It shouldn't be dangerous now that we've made it through, and if the door hasn't been closed again.  Either way, it's our only option. Unless,” Troyard flashed him a wicked grin, "you'd rather perish from thirst."

“A tempting alternative, knowing that you would share in that fate,” he returned moodily.

Troyard’s grin vanished, and he rose to his feet with a sigh. “You’re really no fun at all, Kaizuka.”

“I fail to see the fun in contemplating a torturous death.  Where are you going?”

“To get the water.  I’m not risking that door closing, and I especially don’t want to die if it's to be with you.”

* * *

About an hour later, the two had set up a small picnic of soggy sea biscuits and fresh, ice cold cave water.  Inaho stretched out his legs in the grass and leaned back on his hands, determined to relax and enjoy this respite even if it was a false paradise.  Troyard sat a short distance away, cross-legged, biscuit in mouth, and meticulously separating wet sheets of paper - the remaining pages from his father's book, which he must have had tucked somewhere in his clothes and that now needed to be dried along with everything else.

“Everything here seems to require two to continue," Troyard mused, half to himself, "yet the second person is always in danger if the first is careless or has ill intentions.  It’s practically asking us to kill one another."

“If that’s the case, I’d rather go on in front next time.”

Troyard laughed cynically.  “There’s no need - I won’t allow you to die, Kaizuka.  I have never lied about that.”

Whether that was true or not made him no more eager to experience another brush with death just yet.  Besides, it was what Troyard was _not_ saying that was most telling.  "Is it actually that you don't trust me?"

“Hmm?” Troyard hummed through an amused smile, “I trust your desire to live.  As long as that holds, you’ll not let me die, either.  I’m sure we can both agree that there are no illusions of affection between us, but rather that our individual interests are reliant on mutual survival.”

Inaho gave him a tired look.  “Then there’s no problem.  I will lead for a while.”

“Very well.  Don’t run into more trouble.”

Troyard’s assumption that the same rules applied to everything in this place was hardly fact, and very likely false, but in light of their circumstances for now he would keep his suspicions to himself.  There could certainly be a point where only one would be allowed to continue, and in that event he would do what was necessary.  But then, perhaps Troyard was also keeping quiet on the subject, and intended to mislead him with false security.

“Kaizuka, don’t move," ordered Troyard suddenly, in a deathly serious tone.

Inaho froze.  “What is it?” he asked, and felt himself beginning to sweat as he followed the other’s gaze downward.  There in the grass by his hand was a snake.  Before he could stop himself, he jerked away from it on reflex.  It reacted just as fast, springing back in preparation to strike.  Fully expecting fangs to sink into his flesh at any second, Inaho cringed and recoiled.  He waited for it, heart pounding in his ears, but nothing happened.

“Kaizuka, you’re actually an idiot,” he heard Troyard say, and he looked up into two frightened eyes.  The snake itself was nowhere to be seen.

Inaho sprung to his feet and looked around frantically.  “What happened to it?!”

“I threw it.  Over there somewhere, I think.  It won’t come back, it only attacked because you threatened it.”

In all his life he had probably never felt so relieved as he did at hearing those words.  He slumped back to the grass and put his face into his hands.  “That was reckless.  It could have bitten you.”

“It did."

"... what?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I won't let you die?  Even if it's due to your own stupidity."

Inaho stared at him in disbelief.  "What about your talk of 'mutual survival'?  Your logic is terribly flawed."

"Nevermind all that.  This quest can be tried over, it's been here for centuries and will be for ages to come, but I can't revive you once you're dead. In any case, I'm certain that woman will skewer me if I dare to return alone.  You'll be the death of me either way, I suppose," Troyard added, and examined his arm with tired eyes.

"Nothing you say makes any sense," muttered Inaho. "The bite, is it serious?  Will you-"

"I don't know.  My knowledge of wildlife is limited, and I only saw it for a moment.  But I think it's safe to assume that anything we encounter here is not to be taken lightly.  We should probably press on and not waste any more time taking rests, or you may wind up trapped here alone."

Troyard's calm acceptance of his own circumstances whilst insisting that Inaho live on was quickly becoming irritating.  Not that this was unexpected - by now he was used to the man doing things by his own whim, with what might have held true one moment turning to something else completely different the next.  He drew a long breath and leaned forward.  "Troyard, let me see it."

With reluctance Troyard relinquished his arm and watched in silence as Inaho emptied his canteen over the bleeding wounds, cleaning the area as best he could.  Inaho then took the driest strip of shirt he could find and tied it snugly as a bandage.  Troyard's arm had begun to swell somewhat, but it did not look too bad yet.

"I revise my theory," Troyard stated thoughtfully as he turned his arm over to inspect Inaho's work, "This place will kill us whether we cooperate or not."

"I don't see any reason for that.  Whatever lies at the end of this may be trying to protect itself, but up till now there's always been some way out.  If a path is not meant to be traveled, then why does it exist?  That is why I believe we're missing something here.  If the point was to kill us, it would have done so at the beginning.  Why now and here?  This garden is far too arbitrary if we view it as simply a trap, but if it were to have a solution, or a loophole, then it would align with this island's logic."

Troyard scoffed as he stood up to retrieve their drying belongings from the tree.  "What kind of solution, exactly?  A room full of antidotes somewhere?"

"It's not impossible.  We have yet to explore the path ahead."

"Hah.  Perhaps.  If you're right, then I hope you are prepared, Kaizuka," Troyard ran a thumb over the bandage, lightly tracing fire red lines that had already begun to spread from beneath it, "because the price for a miracle will most certainly be hell."


	9. Story 2

“I don’t like the look of it,” mumbled Troyard, his back against a wall of rock and his gaze set disapprovingly on their latest discovery.  They had followed the path out of the deadly paradise without any further incidents, only to find themselves underground once again.  This time, however, there was some filtered light, and the way through the caverns was spacious.  So much so, that there was some danger of getting lost if one strayed too far into the shadows.  Now before them was a sort of underground oasis with a pool of clear, glistening water, which came pouring in from a fissure up above, and at its center was very small island with something lying on its grass.  The thing glowed, and though it was difficult to tell from such a distance, it appeared to be made of something like glass or crystal.

“I'll bet that's your cure-all,” Inaho conjectured, “the ‘room full of antidotes’, if you will.  I’ll get it.  It can’t hurt to try.”

Troyard frowned, his eyes still fixed ahead.  His fingers brushed idly over the growing web of red lines just under the skin of his forearm.  Inaho sighed inwardly.  There was no time to waste, they had to find some means of nullifying the venom.  There was nothing very dramatic about Troyard’s symptoms thus far, except perhaps cosmetically, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be a sudden, delayed onset.  He seemed tired, but then that was natural considering they hadn’t yet managed to sleep since entering this place.  They were both exhausted.

“We should continue on towards the end,” spoke Troyard at last, “We haven’t the time for this sort of unnecessary excursion.”

“Unnecessary?  You could perish within the hour, for all we know.”

“All the more reason to press on.”

Inaho's jaw tightened and he looked again at what they were about to give up.  He was so certain it would cure Troyard.  Surely there was some sort of hidden obstacle to overcome in order to obtain it, but they had already managed to come this far.  He was confident he could do it.  “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Kaizuka.  Don’t.”  Warning eyes angled up at him, and for a brief moment he felt inclined to do as he was told.  But as their eyes locked, he noticed that Troyard was trembling, and his breathing was not quite regular.

Inaho shook his head with resolve.  “Will you save my life, and then deny me the chance to save yours?”

Troyard gave a long sigh.  "Kaizuka," he repeated quietly, pulling himself to his feet as he spoke, "I know what I said before, but this isn't your fault.  You have no obligation to endanger yourself for my sake.  If we delay, and something happens to you, I may not be able to come to your aid, and I especially won't have enough hours left to accompany you to the end.  If you do this, we could very well both die."

"You have very little faith in me, for someone who went through such great lengths to obtain my help."

Troyard laughed softly, and his lips parted as if to reply, but no words came.  Instead, he leaned forward suddenly and sank to his knees.  His hands shook as they curled against the stone floor.

“Are you alright?” Inaho hurried forward to assist, but was waved away.

After an agonizing moment of suspense, Troyard glanced up at him through sweat-drenched hair. “Don’t stare at me,” he protested faintly, with a strained smile that did little to conceal his distress, “really, Kaizuka… please-”

Inaho had only just turned away when Troyard emptied the contents of his stomach onto the cave floor.  The silence that followed was unbearable.  Inaho began to wonder if Troyard was really alright, or if maybe he’d collapsed.  “Troyard?” he ventured.  If the venom had already spread so far as to make him this sick, he could have even less time than they’d imagined.

Troyard vomited twice again before finally responding.  “Shall we head on?” he inquired casually, as though nothing very out of the ordinary had just happened.

“Are you mad?!” demanded Inaho.  He turned briskly on his heel to face Troyard.

Troyard blinked at him over his upturned canteen, from which he was now taking small sips.  His eyes seemed to be barely focused, and there were beads of sweat on his brow.  Wiping his mouth and returning the cap to the canteen, Troyard cleared his throat.  “Who knows,” he chuckled, “but I’m not the one who suggested walking willingly into that death trap.”

“It’s no longer a suggestion.  Wait here until I return.”

Without waiting for a reply, Inaho set his things down and headed for the edge of the water.  He looked into it, trying to see if there was anything lurking beneath, but the sunlight that streamed in from above cast a shimmering glare over the surface, making it impossible to see what lay below.  He did notice, however, now that he was closer, a line of stepping stones leading straight to the little island.  It was leading from the other side of the pool, the half that was shrouded slightly in mists and shadows.  Without delay, Inaho began making his circuit around the edge, glancing around him all the while in an attempt to notice as many potential hazards as possible.  There wasn’t much hope of his foreseeing something amiss in a place so lovely, but he would try anyway.

Before placing his foot on the first stone, he glanced across the water, just to be sure Troyard was still there.  Not that he expected him to have gone on, but it was reassuring to know that nothing had carried him off, at least.  The figure lying on the ground there both set him at ease and lent him a new sense of urgency, and he began his journey across the water.

* * *

It was strange, and disconcerting, how easy this was.  He began to fear that if he took the thing at the middle, it might trigger this whole place to fall apart, or some such calamity that would kill the both of them.  But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone standing at the edge of the water.  His heartbeat quickened, though if it was a human he felt fairly confident of his odds.  The shadow moved, flickering in and out of sight, until there it was at the first stepping stone.  He let out a breath of relief.  It was only Troyard.

“What are you doing?  I’ll fetch it, you should rest.”

He turned to continue on, but there was Troyard again.  Inaho started and nearly slipped backwards off the stone.  At this point he began to feel a growing sense of dread.  Something was terribly off.  He tried to snatch a look at the far shore, in hopes of confirming that Troyard was not, in fact, still lying there, but was interrupted by something brushing against him, and looked downwards instead.  His stomach lurched at the sight below him.  The water had been tainted with blood, and at his feet was a woman, her weak hand clinging to his pant leg.  She looked up at him with resentful eyes.

“Y-Yuki?!” He recognized her immediately and leaned down to her with a trembling hand.

But no sooner had he moved toward her, than she slipped away beneath the surface.  He stared at the murky red ripples, too stunned to think.  Yet the longer he stood there doing nothing, the more he began to notice the terrible things all around.  Troyard was still before him, now gripping a bloody knife, a dark smile on his lips.  Others appeared, littering the water, and seeping from every crack and opening in the walls was a thick, moving black cloud.  It advanced slowly, soundlessly across the water towards him, swallowing up everything in its path.  He had to get quickly to the island before it reached him, but Troyard was standing in his way.  The panic he felt was strange, as though it wasn't truly his.  He was quite certain that none of this was actually happening, and yet, it was all so realistic.  Either way, the fear was real, and he no longer possessed the mental faculties to explain it away.

Finding that his dread of Troyard was significantly less than his horror of the creeping shadow, he advanced boldly in hopes of maybe dispersing this one figment of his imagination by physically proving its nonexistence.  But Troyard only moved someplace else, always just too far away, and at the same time too close.  A glance at the empty far shore did not help settle matters in his mind.  If he was honest with himself, this _could_ actually be happening.  It wasn’t impossible.

A cloud must have passed over the sun, because suddenly the bright shimmering was gone, and everything became dim.  As he jumped hastily over the stones towards the center, he could now see beneath the surface more clearly, though it was still clouded with blood and swamped with things he did not want to see.  He immediately regretted looking.  Something was indeed down there, a grayish creature weaving silently through a forest of white branches.  Whether they were branches or bones, he couldn’t quite tell, but for his own comfort it was best to assume that they were the more pleasant of the two.  At last, somehow managing to shut out everything around him for a few desperate moments and focus his teetering steps in a forward direction, he reached the island and hastily snatched up the vial that lay there, before it, too, could transform to something he would not want to touch.  He quickly put the silver chain it hung from around his neck.  It would be no good if he dropped it by mistake.  Now for the journey back.

He turned to face what he’d been able to run away from all this time, now wondering how on earth he was meant to run _towards_ it.  Perhaps if he shut his eyes… but then he might fall into the water, and who knows if that thing was actually there or not.  Most likely it was, and if it was, those branches were likely bones.  The bones of others who had died here, probably from falling into the water.

All this time, he’d been thinking that even if this was terrifying, it was actually a harmless venture, and he could complete the mission simply by forcing his way through the nightmare.  But what if not everything was in his mind?  It was unlikely that something in this place would be truly safe, and thus there must be some real danger here.  So which of these things were real, and which were not?  Suddenly, all his fears seemed justified, and he stood, unable to move, at the center of the island, simply watching as the shadow glided across the grass and over his boots.

* * *

Inaho blinked, eyelashes catching as they fluttered against something warm covering his face.  He reached up to pull it away.  He tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“How are you feeling?” someone asked, and he recognized the voice as Troyard’s.

Had something happened to him?  He tried to think back to the last thing he could remember.  Ah, yes, he was on an unfortunate quest with Troyard, and Troyard was terribly ill.  He had set out to fetch some kind of glowing object from the center of a pool… but what had happened after that, he could not remember.  Maybe he had slipped and fallen.  His head did hurt a great deal, now that he thought about it, though it felt more like he’d had too much to drink than fallen on his head.

“Well enough, I suppose,” he responded tentatively, “what happened?”

The pause was a little too long.  “Ah.  You don’t remember…” Troyard sounded pensive, yet pleased, and removed his hands from Inaho’s face.  Only then did Inaho realize his head was cradled in Troyard’s lap, and the man was peering down at him with scrutiny.

“Why were you covering my face?”  He might also have asked why he was lying in such a position, but he figured one thing might explain the other.

Troyard seemed to be debating whether to speak, but eventually answered with a sigh: “Because you’d have clawed out your own eye.”

Inaho tried to put the pieces together through the fog in his head.  Clearly he had actually already attempted the mission, and somehow returned alive, but something had happened to him along the way.  He could only think of one thing it could be.  “Was I poisoned by something?”

Troyard nodded hesitantly.  "I suppose you could say that."  He was probably afraid of reviving the memory somehow by talking about it, but there was literally no trace of it left, and Inaho felt rather certain that it wouldn’t return simply by mentioning it.  It would probably revisit him on its own on some future night in the form of a terrible nightmare.

“Did I succeed?”

Troyard nodded again, and held up his arm.  The bite had vanished completely.  “It was a narrow scrape, but you survived it."

Inaho raised a hand to rub his face, but something caught his eye.  He looked more closely at his fingers.  All of them were covered with blood.  He looked back at Troyard.  "This was more than just a mild poisoning - what exactly happened?  Who's..."

Troyard looked down at him for a long time.  Then he sighed, and leaned back on his hands.  "By the time you returned to the shore, you’d lost all reason.  I can't say I'm surprised that I featured as a villain in your hallucinations, but it was quite convenient for drawing you back to safety without having to go fetch you, since you seemed rather keen on annihilating me.  Thankfully, you were more weakened and disoriented than I was, and had left all but one of your weapons with me, so I was able to restrain you without too much difficulty.  That mist over the water at the other side must be the source.  Once you were away from it, within a few hours the effects faded considerably and you calmed down enough to sleep."

"Hours?!  I'm sorry, are you alright?”

“Of course I am.  You were right, that was a cure-all.  If it couldn’t heal a few scratches, it would be a sorry reward for what you endured to retrieve it.  Thank you, truly.”

Inaho never thought he'd live to see the day when Troyard thanked him, but then he'd also heard Troyard apologize not twenty-four hours prior.  Perhaps it was truly a day of miracles.  “That’s a relief...” he murmured in reply, relaxing a bit, despite his lingering apprehension.  This, like the false paradise, was no place for him to let down his guard.  Anything could happen without warning.  Inaho tried to sit up, so that he could gather his things for their departure, but was prevented by two arms sliding over his shoulders.  He felt the gentle weight of Troyard's folded hands settle on his chest.

"Rest a while longer, at least until the bleeding stops.  You tore at yourself pretty badly... I suppose you imagined there was something under your skin.”

Inaho closed his eyes, too tired to protest such a welcome order.  If he had slept, it hadn't been for long, and anyway his head was still throbbing terribly.  "Wake me if something happens," he murmured, and drifted off into the deepest sleep he'd had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather anticlimactic resolution to a 6 month cliffhanger, I know, but I've been holding onto this chapter since September and haven't thought of anything better to write, so... there you have it...


End file.
